Comedy Combat
by Master Fifer
Summary: Fifer on the move again! A crazy, mostly Lord of the Rings centered catastrophy of chaos and comedy. Basically, Naruto and Lord of the Rings along with some other people crammed in a mansion together. Somewhat better summary inside. Rated for language.


Yeah, yeah. I know... "Fifer, you need to update." "Fifer, you've been gone for so long." "Fifer, you asshole! You said you'd call me! We had something special!"

That last one was more for Elaine... Sorry, babe. I work alone.

Anywho, judging from the above comments you can safely deduct that I have been away. So, I have made an excuse that will explain my unforgiveable absence:

**Yes, yes I know. It has certainly been a while since I got off my lazy ass and wrote some good old fashioned comedy. But you must remember, Elves are very busy creatures. Just this year, I have done a shit load of nothing. I have done so much nothing that I was drowning in it. I did so much nothing that people who complain they have nothing to do were like, "Da-uhm, Fifer." So much nothing was in my life for this inexcusable year and a half absence, that my skin oozed it.**

**My skin **_**oozed**_** nothing.**

**I breathed nothing.**

**And it was awful.**

**But, now my life is not filled with nothing. It is filled with something. Something spectacular. Something extraordinary. Something that will change man-kind as we know it. And it is called...**

**Comcast.**

**With Comcast, I can watch TV, type the manuscript, AND talk on the phone at the SAME TIME. Late night writing for you brats about pointless smut and maybe a side order of smex? Not a problem. I just simply press record on the remote control, and BAM. **_**Who Wants To Be A Superhero **_**starts recording at the designated time, and I can write in peace and resume it later.**

**Bitchin', huh?**

So, now you can't be mad at me, right? Comcast is an amazing thing... Okay, well, I've had Comcast for two years now, but it still fills me with glee each time I think of it.

Hi, everybody! The following story probably needs some explaining... Well, Liger Zero Nightmare and I have always had the Fangirl Dream of living in a house of our very favorite shows and movies. The dream is still living, the actual reality is proving a bit more of a hassle... We're working on it. The original Merged Fiction Mansion was edited to make sense for Fanfiction, but we're working on getting a site up for it so you can not care about it somewhere else.

The great thing about musings is that they really need no plot... am I right? As a scribe, I encounter different material each day and all of it seems plotless. So, this one is too.

I guess the real people who need explaining are the original characters such as Gaara, Sasuke, Lindir, and Rumil. Musing one day how Naruto should be a dog trainer because of Kyuubi, LZN and I thought it'd be hilarious if Sasuke acted like a mad animal to which Naruto would train and teach right from wrong. Gaara was just there to swear cutely and soak up the attention. And Lindir thinks he's sexy, and Rumil is Canadian.

Again, please don't try to understand. We tested this story on a subject and the poor kid is still recovering...

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**Disclaimer:** **Technically, this is a story that belongs to LZN and I, but the characters (at least most of them) do not. It makes me so sad my pillow is wet with tears at night...**

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**Merged Fiction Mansion: Season Two**

**"U Can't Touch This"**

Normally, every story starts out with some fancy dancy line that is both wise, funny, and very mature. Too bad our house passes the test with one out of those three requirements. So, it'd be a waste of time to think about some fancy dancy line for the manuscript, because it certainly isn't fancy dancy, there are only a few lines scattered here and there, and I'm not going to go out and make money off of it. So let's not bother, shall we?

It was another beautiful day at Merged Fiction Mansion. But, any day is beautiful for us when the neighbors aren't pressing charges, the giant shark is in its chosen spot, and Elrond isn't cooking some new concoction involving coconuts and anchovy paste.

The Hobbits busied themselves with the new Wii Aragorn had spent all summer raising money for by giving car washes and doing lemonade stands. Pippin was screaming at Sam, his partner in mini put-put Wii golf, to make the last hole or else they'd lose to a smug looking Frodo and Merry who were certain they had it in the bag. Lindir walked down the stairs in nothing but a pair of basketball shorts followed closely by Little Lindir who was babbling excitedly at him and showing him the prized Nanna Goose doll he carried with him constantly.

In Little Lindir's eyes, Nanna Goose might as well have been the Bible.

For reasons unexplained, Little Lindir had developed an unusual, yet more one sided and not returned, friendship with Lindir. No one really understood why. Lindir was very antisocial, arrogant, self absorbed, and an exceptionally bad influence on children, but this didn't seem to bother Little Lindir in the least. Perhaps it was because Lindir was turning over a new leaf, or perhaps it was because Little Lindir wasn't _really _an Elfling. In fact, he was probably a few hundred years younger than Lindir himself. He just never grew up. Lucky him.

"You said you'd take me to the park today," he piped up, taking a seat on a barstool at the kitchen counter and watching Lindir with utter adoration as he reached for the Lucky Charms. A grunt was his response, then the distinct sounds of milk being chugged from the carton.

"Lindir, don't drink from out of the carton!" A voice screeched from upstairs, most presumably Arwen.

"Alright, you old bitch," said carton infecter grumbled, wiping a milk moustache on his arm. Little Lindir giggled at the choice of words.

"Old bitch."

"Don't repeat that."

"'kay."

Identical footsteps were heard as the Twins made their way down the stairs still in PJ's. Elladan grunted at Lindir who passed the milk carton wordlessly, letting Arwen scream at her older brother for drinking straight from it. Elrohir, ever paranoid, sat down on a chair and looked at his cell phone with a hint of disappointment on his face. Dan set the now empty milk carton down, moving to open another.

"No new calls?"

"No new calls," his twin echoed sadly, slumping in the chair. Lindir made a noise that sounded like a mixture between, 'Where's the pancake mix?' and 'I'm a mongoose.'

Minutes later, Aragorn decided to grace everyone with his presence clad only in short shorts. _Very_ short shorts. A hush fell over the kitchen as he walked past, emitting a smell of cologne and old sock that was in the cheese drawer when the fridge went out.

Aragorn did not believe in showers.

He grabbed a box of strawberry poptarts, ripping the box open instead of using the "PULL ME" tabs clearly labeled on the side. Grabbing a pack, he bit into the pastry but didn't remove the outer foil wrapping. Chewing slowly, he surveyed everyone with a half awake look, then trudged back upstairs. Everyone went about their business. That was normal for the morning.

Next came the Galadhrim brothers. They usually came in by themselves, in four minute twenty six second intervals. First would come the oldest, grumpy Haldir who was usually complaining the coffee was too hot and not potent enough even though he was still on the stairs and nowhere near the pot. Then came Orophin, still distraught over his rejection from Elladan Peredhel in which he had been turned down _multiple _times in marriage to him. Usually, he would cast Dan a look that could kill, then go for the Special K. Last, Rumil would come down the stairs whistling the Canadian anthem for he truly believed he was Canadian. As long as it took all three of them to be present and accounted for (which was thirteen minutes and eighteen seconds), it took them less time to get in an argument with each other. Today's fight was that Haldir spent too much time in the bathroom which was why when Orophin came down, the milk would always be gone and Dan would have already drank out of the fresh one contaminating it was his rejectable germs and Rumil was stupid like his mom. It always ended in either tears, broken plates, or broken bones.

Lindir watched them as he prepared the pancakes for everyone. Little Lindir was at his side.

"Can I help?"

"No."

"Please?"

"No."

"I can mix the batter."

"No."

"I can crack the eggs!"

"No."

"Liiiiindiiiiir!"

"No."

"You have such a way with children, Lindir," Dane chimed from behind the other Elf on his way from the fridge. "You will make a wonderful father."

He got a grunt in response.

There was the sound of high pitched singing from the stairs. As a whole, the group looked at one another in an exasperated knowing stare and quickly pretended to become preoccupied with anything handy, i.e. paper, breakfast, purposely breaking the sink so they could repair it and look busy.

Legolas flitted down the stairs, hair put up in two absurd pony tails on either side of his head. Haldir sipped his coffee.

"Look everyone, it's Ditsy Spice."

Legolas giggled, tapping Haldir on the nose.

"Silly Haldir. Silly silly," he quipped, skipping into the kitchen. He swatted Lindir on the ass playfully and pinched Little Lindir's cheek (on his face). Doing some complicated dance between the Grapevine and the Macarena, he opened the fridge and took out some lowfat yogurt. Spreading his arms wide, he twirled in a slow circle looking at the ceiling.

"OH, WHAT A BEAUTIFUL MOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOORNIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIING!!!!"

Everyone else grumbled and cursed in agreement. Dan set his cup of joe down on the table firmly, making a loud ringing bang that reverberated throughout the kitchen.

"Legolas, you all know we hate to see you so happy in the morning. It really digs us deeper into depression," he said in a reminding tone. "Besides, not all of us can afford ear plugs."

"Pish-aw, Daniel," Legolas mocked, sashaying into a chair with a spoon for his yogurt. "You're just jealous of my happiness because you will be forever _alone_."

"And I intend to keep it that way." To the casual observer, this would have appeared to be said to Legolas. But one with a trained eye could have seen the glance in Orophin's general direction as well.

Lindir swore loudly as an egg fell on the floor. Rumil reached up into a cupboard to get the protein packet he mixed with his milk. Orophin fumed at Dan. Haldir grumbled and frowned.

It was going to be a great day.

Without the slightest indication of greeting, Figwit appeared through the garage door. He walked slowly over to the fridge, yawning loudly and searching for some food. Legolas smiled, straightening up and sending his long pigtails flying into Dan's face.

"Good morning, Figgy..."

"Yo."

The shit eating grin on Legolas' face grew as the searching in the fridge grew more pronounced and frantic. There was silence save for the munching of Ro eating a graham cracker and staring at his cell as is possessed and Little Lindir pulling on Lindir's shorts and whining for attention. Figwit finally straightened, turning to face the group.

"Who ate the last yogurt," he hissed. It was not a question. Legolas giggled, placing the last bite of dairy treat in his mouth, walking past Figwit to throw it away in the garbage. The angered Elf made break neck motions before slamming the fridge closed and walking upstairs.

Near the stove, meanwhile, Little Lindir was caught in a losing battle with Lindir. In actual fact, Lindir _had _promised to take him to the park, just under the influence of Smirnoff Ice at one in the morning. He was now claiming he knew nothing of this promise, and hadn't even remembered _talking _to Little Lindir the previous evening. Thus, there was no agreement to said park.

"But you said so!"

Lindir shook his head slowly, mixing the pancake batter.

"You did! Dan, you were there! Remember how Lindir promised to take me to the park?!"

Dan gave Little Lindir a, "Kid, this battle is already lost." look before sighing deeply and crossing his leg over the other. Why not make Lindir squirm a bit.

"Well, you _did_ say you would take the kid to the park, Lindir," he reasoned, shrugging his shoulders. "But you were off-the-rocker drunk."

"See?"

Lindir made no indication that he'd heard either Elves, instead putting the pancake batter in the pan and watching it intently. Little Lindir began to cry loudly and ran upstairs to complain to Faramir or Elrond, whoever was closer. Dan shook his head and picked up a segment of the paper.

Everyone knew it was natural for the Lord of the Rings people to be up first. Elves were morning people, even though they didn't admit to it willingly, and everyone else was only human. Or mutant. Or Hobbit. Or animal.

Usually, after the Elves filed in, the Ninjas would take their place at the table. Usually starting with Naruto Uzumaki and his two "dogs" Gaara and Sasuke.

But today was different. Unusually silent, Gaara came into kitchen yawning cutely and mumblings. Everyone loved Gaara, it was like a house rule. Ask anybody in the mansion about Gaara, and they'd be sure to say he was an angel and the cutest thing they'd ever seen.

"Good morning, Gaara."

"Fuck," was yawned in greeting as more of a sneeze than a word. Gaara was a very mouthy child. He picked up on words easily, thus the only ones in his vocabulary at present were "fuck", "asshole", "shit", "crap", "Naruto", "Sasuke", "Gaara", and people's names that he felt fit into the swear well. On more than one occassion, one could get a front row seat in watching him string these words together in elaborate swears that usually got Naruto flipped off for when he was on the highway, driving. It had always been, "Fuck Gaara." (which endlessly confused the neighbors and the local pervs. "Does he want us to fuck him?" "Is he insulting himself?") but more recently it had been, "Fuck fuckity fuck fuck Gaara, crap Naruto.", "Sasuke fuck shit.", "Elrond shitty crap fuckity fuck.", "Asshole Logan, shit fuck Gaara.", "Foreman shitty crap Jack.", and "Legolas fuckity fuck shit crappy Gaara, Naruto fuck Aragorn shitty asshole."

Gaara normally had Fifer, Merry, Pippin, and Boromir in hysterics every Friday night as they all sat on the floor with a big bowl of popcorn listening to Gaara make up elaborate profanities.

Today, Gaara seemed upset though. Being the good samaritan that he was, Rumil patted Gaara on the head.

"What's wrong, Gaara?"

"Naruto," was his sneezy reply.

"What about Naruto?"

"Fuck."

"Can you tell me what's _wrong_ with _Naruto_, eh?"

"Crap."

Rumil sighed, giving up. If Naruto was really injured or sick, Gaara'd be making more of a fuss. They'd know something was wrong if Sas-

There was the sound of breaking glass from upstairs and then a high pitched squeal of rage.

"NARUTO, COME GET YOUR BOYFRIEND!" Arwen screeched from her room. Sasuke came charging down the stairs, yowling and screaming, knocked into the wall at the end of the first flight of them, then fell down the rest. He immediately bounced up, snarling and snapping at nothing and turning blindly in a circle. No wonder he was so panicked. Arwen's bra had wrapped itself around his face, and one of the cups was obstructing his vision.

He snarled and snapped some more, walking into the counter then fell over whining piteously. Everyone exchanged glances. This was a dangerous situation. Sasuke was an unpredictable animal, but he needed help at the moment. Someone who was mature, not easily spooked, and replaceable had to do it.

Naturally, everyone looked at Haldir.

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Hopefully, after I get my lazy ass to write more, I will reward you all for your patience and suffering through this story with **Akito's Baby Blues. **Honestly, I've been coming up with new material for it, and when I actually get around to putting fingertips to mouse and key, it should be fantastic. Same principle with this story for those rare beings who liked it.

R&R is you dare...

Fifer


End file.
